


the hands that tend to me

by chryysaskk



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bubble Bath, Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, Sharing a bathtub, bonus a few verses of a song i will never finish, he's a bit sad, it's about the intimacy of massaging the one you love, no beta we die like witchers, pats jaskier on the head: this boy can fit so much projection in him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chryysaskk/pseuds/chryysaskk
Summary: Was it a bad day? Jaskier couldn’t answer for sure with yes or no. It was not bad. He’d had bad days and that one definitely wasn’t one of them. Still. He felt a weight resting on his shoulders, as if all the previous hours had settled on them. He sighed, returned Geralt’s gold gaze. “A long one,” he decided to answer. He turned around before Geralt’s eyes burned him more in their insistence. “I’m having a shower and then we eat. Give me ten minutes.”Some days you just don't know what's wrong. It will pass.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	the hands that tend to me

**Author's Note:**

> did i write this only to express myself through jaskier's feelings? yes. am i posting it anyway? also yes. basically a glimpse of my bad days in here but hey! it's soft!! geralt would never let his bf be sad!! also i wanted a role reversal of who bathes whom so there you go.
> 
> i hope you enjoy and if you decide to leave kudos or a comment, you really are the loveliest!! <3

The door closed behind him with a thud louder than he expected and Jaskier flounced slightly at the sudden sound, feeling his ears drumming. He momentarily closed his eyes, took a deep breath. The whole apartment smelled of honey and chocolate. He smiled.

“Geralt,” he took off his coat and placed his guitar in the corner, turning around at the sound of footsteps on the carpet behind him. He raised an eyebrow and considered the smell. “You made crepes?”

Geralt had a wide grin spread from ear to ear and even if Jaskier’s mind was deemed unable to make any connection to that rare occasion, oh, how it warmed his heart. “Just starting. Two are already on the plate.” Jaskier chuckled and walked over, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Geralt peered at him with a squint. “Everything alright?”

Jaskier paused for a second. Avoiding to let his smile fade, he tilted his head. “Do I look that bad?” 

“No, no, I mean,” Geralt’s rush made his shoulders shake with laughter and Geralt nodded, “you look tired. Bad day?”

Was it a bad day? Jaskier couldn’t answer for sure with yes or no. It was not _bad_. He’d had bad days and that one definitely wasn’t one of them. Still. He felt a weight resting on his shoulders, as if all the previous hours had settled on them. He sighed, returned Geralt’s gold gaze. “A long one,” he decided to answer. He turned around before Geralt’s eyes burned him more in their insistence. “I’m having a shower and then we eat. Give me ten minutes.” He saw Geralt smiling with the corner of his eye but the bathroom door closed before he could hear what he responded. Probably _okay_. Jaskier didn't bother to ask again.

It had not been a bad day. Not in the usual sense of the word, at least. It had been normal, just like every day and, if he thought about it, he was perfectly fine during the most of it. At work, at the rehearsal. Perfectly normal. But then again, maybe that was the problem. Normal. Or maybe there was no problem at all. Maybe that draining feeling scorching his insides, that emptiness savouring him bit by bit was a passing thing. It always was, he knew. Maybe if he ignored it, it would pass faster. So he didn’t bother.

Except he did. Not his fault that he did, he couldn’t help it, dying to understand why and how, it had been a good day, the weather was sunny as he loved, the house was warm, Geralt was making crepes, it was Friday for God’s sake! And yet there he was, unsatisfied, breathless, guilt creeping up his bones whispering that he had no reason, none at all to be morose, he had no reason to think about it, it would pass, it was Friday, oh, and Geralt looked so happy before. 

“Jaskier?”

He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, not remembering when he had closed them. He stood up from the bathtub floor, confused. Another thing he didn’t remember doing. The water was still running hot. Geralt was standing at the door, although he barely discerned him through the shower curtain.

Suddenly, his chest was flooded with a feeling he couldn’t name but he knew it was not pleasant at all and he was grateful Geralt couldn’t see him, turning around to grab something, anything to look occupied. He faked a smile, mostly to himself. “Sorry, dear, I’m almost finished, I –”

He heard a hum. Then the curtain was drawn aside and Geralt looked at him, his eyes darkened, his hand outstretched. “You haven’t even got the sponge yet.” Jaskier glanced at the sponge in Geralt’s hand, then back at him, and chuckled nervously. “I have now.” He went to draw the curtain in front of him again but it stuck and he pulled and pulled again and then a hand was on his.

“Jaskier.”

“ _Yes_.” If Jaskier was actually thinking at the moment, he would avoid answering in that tone. He was not. So he didn't avoid answering in that tone. And it made Geralt frown even more; still, his look was soft in all its darkness. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I –” Funny thing, he thought. That’s exactly the same question he kept asking himself. He snorted and shook his head, his eyes burning. “I don’t _know_.” Water was dripping from his hair. Or was it tears?

Geralt’s hand slowly slipped from his and suddenly the water felt colder. “Get out.”

“What, why?” Geralt sighed and caught him by the shoulders pulling him forward, making him step out of the bathtub as Jaskier stared at him confused. He watched as Geralt proceeded to take off his clothes and then stand in front of him, tilting his head. Then he understood. And as the water was filling the bathtub, as Geralt was gazing at him with a faint smile, leaning on the wall, as the lather formed bubbles in the bathtub, he thought that maybe, maybe, it would pass like that.

Hot water made him shiver as he sat on the floor, feeling Geralt settling behind him. He chuckled softly. “You dare take my seat?” Geralt huffed a laugh and then he felt warm hands on his shoulders, pressing firm, wiping away the hours carved on his skin. Hands on his hair, too. Tangled in brown curls, strong fingers massaging his scalp oh so gently, the bubbles sparkling in the dim light of the bathroom. He closed his eyes. Let go of a deep sigh. That’s it, he thought, a breath he was holding all day. He moaned silently as Geralt returned to rub down his nape and shoulders, suddenly feeling away in all his lull. A smile curved his lips, genuine. That’s what it was like, every time he got to do the same at Geralt. If he thought about it, it was nothing. Not an activity worth noted.

It was nothing. Only the overwhelming love pouring out of the fingers on his skin, the pure familiarity of Geralt’s breath on his nape, the ethereal simplicity of closing his eyes and feeling, and then he was not empty anymore, and the bathtub was flooding with water and foam and even if he felt dried tears on his cheeks, he ignored them. Those were fast to flow. 

He started humming a tune. Strange what being taken care of whispers to the heart.

_Sun of my eyes and rain of my lips,_  
_Warmth of the world burning your fingertips,_  
_I wandered far and wide ’till my feet met the sea,_  
_Just to come back to the hands that tend to me._

The water fell down his hair, washing the lather away, along with the last traces of exhaustion, like ink washed off a paper sheet. A hand on his neck. He didn't open his eyes. Just turned his head, captured Geralt’s lips in his, kissed him. Softly, barely there, like raindrops stroking down a window. Geralt gazed at him, if he ever did anything else. Moved wet hair away from his eyes. Jaskier caught his hand, pressed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. 

Thought for a moment, then huffed, meeting Geralt’s stare. “Sorry about the crepes. They have gone cold now.”

Geralt chuckled, a thousand suns in his eyes. Shook his head. “Didn’t make them.” He swallowed, his hand still in Jaskier’s hair. “I told you before you entered the bathroom. I thought... it would cheer you up if we made them together.”

“Oh.” Jaskier knew he was blushing because of Geralt’s fond look. He snorted. “There’s still time, if you want.”

Fingertips trailed his face, down to the corner of his lips. Geralt tilted his head. “I just want to see you smile.” His eyes sparkled as Jaskier grinned at him and he raised his eyebrows, now in hope. “Everything alright?”

Jaskier thought for a moment. The day had been good, the water was warm, it was Friday and Geralt was happy. And whatever reason he had to be sad before, it had passed. So he kept his smile, squeezed Geralt’s hand in his. And nodded.

“It is now.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> you can also find me on tumblr as [wanderlust-t](https://wanderlust-t.tumblr.com/)


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